


A Sweet Taste

by spicyYeet



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Kinda Fluffy, M/M, Modern AU, What am I doing, a mention of a band, also kinda ooc, also that artist may be a ref to some more of my works c;, and an artist, first works always suck, i meant a single singer, idc, idk how to tagggg, im sorry, it's so baaad, kms, maybe a lot OOC, not like an artist that doodles, why am i doing, you know what im talking about, you will see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 07:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11436522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyYeet/pseuds/spicyYeet
Summary: Jean visits his local cafe and meets a new employee there, named Marco. They start to chat a bit, and Jean feels something click between them. Or is it just him?





	A Sweet Taste

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work here, so I apologize if it's a bit sloppy. I have all these stories I want to share, and I really hope you will like them.
> 
> You're more than welcome to criticize.  
> Enjoy! c:

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEE-_

  
_Smack._

  
A slight aggravated grumble was swallowed by the pillow.

  
Jean cracked open an eye and winced as a bright orange glow burned his eyes. He rolled over, glaring at the time.

  
6:30 AM.

  
"Ugh," Jean groaned. "Too early."

  
Jean twisted back into the position he was originally in, slowly dozing back into sleep.

  
_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

  
A cry of despair rippled throughout the room.

 

 

Jean decided it was best to just get up and start the day, even as much as he decided against it. He hadn't gotten much sleep, so he was feeling extra draggy. He knew what would wake him up.

  
He could go for some coffee right about now.

  
Before he left, he grabbed his phone and his laptop. His laptop was placed comfortably in its black bag it had came with.

  
The cafe was just a couple of blocks down the road from Jean's house. Instead of walking, he drove. Today was  _not_ his day.

  
As he pulled up to the cafe and stepped out, he was immediately given some unpleasant looks. Jean paid no mind to them, he didn't want his day getting any shittier than it was.

  
He pushed open the glass door and walked in, stopping for a moment and inhaling the smell that intruded his nose.

  
Jean trudged up to the counter, grinning at the non-existent line. Once he reached his destination, he leaned both elbows on the counter, sighing as he waited for someone. He glanced around, noting that only a few people were in the cafe, and his eyes landed on a small bell that sat on the counter peacefully. He reluctantly picked it up and rang it.

  
_Well, I sure as hell didn't want to wait._

  
Almost instantly, a tall man stumbled out and he smiled. "Hello. What can I get you?"

  
Jean looked up and he caught his breath in his throat. The man that stood before him smiled, the freckles peppered across his cheeks curled with his smile. He had dark hair, and sparkling brown eyes. His smile complimented his small flush that was dusted across his face.

  
Jean couldn't help but crack a small smile. This man's positive vibes practically radiated off of him. Plus, he was adorable.

  
"Well, I could take you as a side order," Jean's smile morphed into a cocky smirk.

  
The man's flush deepens as he rumbled a small chuckle. "C'mon, I need your order. Don't wanna get in trouble, now." He winked.

  
Jean's stomach churned. "Yes, right. Um, I'll just go with a small..."

  
The man cocked an eyebrow. "Small what?"

  
Jean paused for a moment. "Oh. Just... A regular coffee."

  
Damn, this man made him feel weak to the knees.

  
The man smiled as he turned around and grabbed a cup, pulling a marker out of his pocket. "Name?"

  
"Yours?"

  
The man chuckled. "Just give me your name."

  
"Jean."

  
"Marco."

  
Jean hummed in his throat and continued smiling like an idiot. He turned to go sit at a table, a small booth that was by a wide window. He took his seat, quickly getting comfortable.

  
_Well, this is one hell of a way to start my day._

  
He sat there for a few moments, not very long, however, before Marco nearly pranced over to Jean with his coffee in hand. Jean couldn't help but smile. Again. All he had done when he was there was smile. This man was too adorable.

  
_Guess today won't be as shitty as I thought._

  
"Here you go. Have a nice day, _Jean._ "

  
Jean nearly shuddered at the way his name rolled off of Marco's tongue. Marco was short with his words, but they seemed to be enough to put Jean in a trance.

  
As Marco turned and walked away, Jean side glanced, staring at his ass.

  
_Fuck, everything about him is adorable._

  
As Jean lifted the hot content to his lips, he noticed a small strip of paper taped to it. He pulled it back down and examined it.

  
His heart skipped a beat when he took it off and looked at it, noticing numbers scribbled onto it.

  
_Well shit. Today is just my lucky day, isn't it?_

  
Jean looked up again to see Marco disappearing behind the counter. He barely even knew the man and he was already tripping over him.

  
He wasn't exactly... Halfway finished with his drink after about fifteen minutes. Normally, he'd down it in only a few minutes. But he drank it slowly this time, purposefully. He actually wanted to stay longer, because of Marco, of course.

  
So, since he was completely aware he was going to be there a while, he pulled out his laptop and started browsing away.

  
Jean settled himself against the window, relaxing a little bit. Though his mind wasn't as relaxed as he was. His mind was all about _Marco, Marco, Marco._

  
He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't even notice the devil himself sat down beside him. Jean was pulled out of his little Marco world when he felt a small nudge on his arm. His amber gaze flicked up to the freckled man, and instantly felt a smile tug at his lips.

  
"Does it take you that long to finish a small cup of coffee?" Marco picked up the cup and looked at it with a curious brow before setting it back down.

  
Jean grinned. "No, not really."

  
Marco cocked an eyebrow. "Then why are you taking so long?"

  
"Is it a problem?"

  
Marco smiled. "No. I was just wondering. Usually people are in a hurry and don't stay longer than three minutes."

  
Jean nudged Marco's arm, his mental excuse being Marco had touched him, so why can't he touch him?

  
Jean downed the rest of his coffee, sighing as he did, setting his cup back down on the table. He then focused his attention on the screen, trying to shake off the feeling of Marco watching over his shoulder. Long before Marco had sat down with him, Jean had started writing a little short story.

  
Jean's fingers worked their magic as he tried to distract himself.

  
"What'cha writtin' there?" Marco asked almost childishly.

  
Jean grunted slightly. "Something."

  
"Looks like you've been working on it for quite some time."

  
Jean smiled like a little kid when he was given ice cream. "Yeah, I guess."

  
An awkward eternity of silence passed.

  
"So, did you get it?" Marco finally broke the silence with his gentle voice.

  
Jean looked up at him with question.

  
"My number," Marco grinned.

  
"Oh. Yeah I did. Isn't that not allowed for employees?"

  
"Huh? Oh, no. But my shift has ended. I've been here all night."

  
"Oh, wow. You must be tired. Say, I can give you a lift home, if you want," it sounded more of an unsure question than a statement.

  
Marco broke out into a smile. "Really? Gosh, you're so nice. But I can manage myself, thank you. I'll be fine."

  
Jean closed his laptop and put it back in its bag. He paused, but without a second thought, climbed over Marco and stood up, holding out a hand to him. "Please allow me."

  
That adorable flush had rushed to Marco's face, and Marco scratched the back of his head. "O-Okay." He grabbed Jean's hand and pulled himself up before following Jean out the door.

  
Jean glanced around. "Where's your car?"

  
"At home."

  
"Oh. Where might that be?"

  
"Back down on 8th Avenue."

  
Jean stared at him. "You walked all the way from there?"

  
"Yeah. What's wrong?"

  
"That's a long ass walk."

  
Marco shrugged. "Stayin' healthy."

  
Jean only rolled his eyes and walked over to his car, pushing the unlock button on his keys. He had a black camaro, it had a bright red stripe down both sides, and the metal of his wheels were the same shade of red.

  
"Nice car," Marco commented.

  
Jean smiled. "Thanks."

  
As they climbed into the car and got themselves situated, Jean put the key in the ignition and started the car. It had a small rumble to it, but not loud enough to the point where it was ridiculous and obnoxious.

  
"Hey, Marco!"

  
Both men turned their heads toward the cafe doors, where three of Marco's co-workers stood, one waving her arm off, one had his arms crossed against his chest, and the other was leaning out the door, which was the one who called out to Marco. He put a hand to his mouth and snickered slightly, "Don't get pregnant!" And with that, they all whooshed back in as fast as they could.

  
Marco rolled his eyes and looked at Jean, who's mouth slightly hung open. "Ignore them. They're being idiots."

  
Jean raised an eyebrow. "Right."

 

  
About fifteen minutes of driving and talking, they had gotten caught in the hands of Satan.

  
_Traffic._

  
Jean laid his head in frustration on the steering wheel, and beat his head on the horn. "This is ridiculous," he grit through his teeth. "We've been sitting here for ten fucking minutes."

  
After Jean stopped trying to give himself a concussion, Marco reached over and ruffled his hair. "Oh, calm down. You'll be fine."

  
Jean felt his heart thump into his throat at the action, and hid his smile. He lifted his head again, awaiting the time to fucking _move._

  
Yet again, an awkward silence between them filled the car. The only sounds that were to be heard was the angry honking and frustrated yelling.

  
Marco seemed to grow uncomfortable, and glanced around. Possibly looking for something to talk about.

  
"What's this?" Marco eyed a small card, almost as big as a credit card, that was attached to the front mirror by a string around it.

  
"What's what?"

  
Marco lifted one of his fingers to the card and lifted it slightly, and tilted his head.

  
Jean immediately noted that he loved it when Marco did that. He thought his heart would just about give way to such an adorable man. How was it even possible for a man to be this cute?

  
But his high school girl feelings ceased suddenly when he saw the card Marco was looking at. The card had rainbow stripes going across it, and in black writing said, "Ur gay".

  
Jean sighed. "Mother gave it to me," He rolled his eyes. "She made it for me, actually. She insisted that I kept it. I've had it ever since."

  
Marco giggled like a little boy. Jean also noted that he loved that too.

  
Another... Awkward silence.

  
Uncomfortable, Jean reached over and turned on the radio, turning it loud enough whereas if they went silent, it wouldn't be uncomfortable. Jean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and tapped his foot to the beat.

  
Marco watched Jean intently, and smiled.

 

  
Finally after nearly a full hour, they pulled up to their destination. Tall buildings stood proud, and apartment windows peeked out on the sides of them. Jean put the car in park, and opened his door, not bothering to close it, and jogged around to Marco's side, where he opened Marco's door.

  
"Thank you, Jean, but I really could've done that myself," Marco smiled.

  
Jean shut the door after Marco stepped out. "Just being a gentleman. Plus, you've been working all day. And believe it or not, you dozed off at least twice on our way here."

  
"I did?"

  
Jean nodded, recalling the image of Marco sleeping. His mouth hung open slightly, his head leaned back against the back of the seat, and his left arm laid over his torso. His face was facing the window and lolled to the side, a few stray locks of dark hair covered his face, and his chest rose and fell peacefully. Jean could see his sharp jawline and the well defined muscles in his neck. He couldn't help but brushed back the stray locks, and admired the adorable face.

  
"Yeah, you did," he was never going to admit to Marco that he found it cu- "I thought it was cute, though."

  
_Fuck._

  
Marco smiled and attempted to hide his face, but honestly failed.

  
Jean grinned and pat the man's shoulder, "I'll see you later."

  
As he got into his car, he stopped himself from putting the car into reverse when he heard Marco say, "You're not going to stay for a bit?"

  
He froze and made eye contact with Marco. "Y-You want me to stay?"

  
"Of course! It would be rude not to invite you in and let you stay for a while after you drove me home."

  
He had a point. Jean smiled and pulled his keys out and put them in his pocket. Stepping back out of the car, and shutting the door this time, he left his laptop in the car, but stuffed his phone in his back pocket.

  
Marco lead him in, unlocking his door with his own keys. As the door opened Jean had a whiff of something that just smelled like... Marco. It was the only way he could describe it. It smelled good. It smelled like the cafe, and an unfamiliar scent of cologne hung in the air. God, he was going to remember this smell forever.

  
It was a nice place. It was on the verge of being a rather small place, but it was nice. A small hallway lead to the living area, and off to the right of the hallway at the archway to the living-room, were stairs.

  
Marco walked up the stairs, and Jean followed slowly, unsure if he should follow him. Marco opened a door, which was his bedroom door. A double wide bed sat in the middle of the room, pushed against the far wall, where a small window hung. The room was painted white, and a small wooden dresser sat at the corner of the room.

  
Marco took off his shoes, putting them in front of a coffee table at his bed side, before disappearing behind a door, which Jean assumed was the bathroom.

  
Jean smoothed his hair back and sat on the bed. He intertwined his hands and waited patiently, tapping his foot.

  
When Marco emerged back from the bathroom, Jean grinned.

  
Marco was wearing a black shirt, which read "The Chainsmokers" in white print, and had clouds of pastel pink and purple, and somewhat light orange. Blood red roses sprouted and curled around the letters. He also wore plain black sweat pants.

  
Jean cocked an eyebrow. "The Chainsmokers? Really?"

  
"What? Do you not like them?" Marco smiled as he eyed at Jean.

  
"Troy is more of my thing."

  
"Troy Baker?"

  
Jean hummed in his throat in response.

  
"Are you hungry?" Marco asked as he opened the door, and gestured for Jean to follow.

  
"Yeah, I guess I could go for some food."

  
They walked down the steps, and Marco was surprisingly swift getting down the stairs. He took a sharp right, and walked into the living-room, where the kitchen was also at, only separated from a different flooring.

  
A somewhat large round table with four chairs that circled around it, sat in front of the border from the living-room. A door that lead outside stood behind it. The kitchen continued further on, another archway lead to a room with a refrigerator, cabinets, a counter, kitchen sink, a stove, and a microwave all crowded the place.

  
Marco opened the silver fridge, and looked around in it. "Is pizza okay with you?"

  
"Yeah."

  
Marco pulled out the said item, grabbing an oven pan and pulling the pizza out of its box and wrapping, placing it on the pan and sticking it in the stove. He hit a few buttons after closing the door and stepped away, looking back at Jean.

  
Jean locked his amber eyes with Marco's brown, and couldn't help but stare. He only broke the contact when he felt heat creeping up his neck to his face.

  
"Wanna watch a movie while we wait?"

  
Jean could just picture himself curled into Marco's side, or vise versa.

  
Jean mentally shook himself. _Quit thinking like that. You just met the guy!_

  
"Yeah, sure."

  
Marco smiled and walked back into the living-room, where a small love-seat sat, an end table was placed to the right of it, and further to the right, was a long desk, with papers stacked galore, and a huge window covered by blinds just above it.

  
A large TV was placed in front of the love-seat, and it stood on a, also large, TV stand. The TV stand was black, and had a hollow opening just below the TV. It had a console, and several games lined up beside it. The platform where the TV sat, also homed a small Blu-ray player. On either side, there were cabinets, where, Jean guessed, was where Marco probably kept his movies.

  
His question was answered when Marco walked over to one of the cabinets and looked around. "What would you like to watch?"

  
Marco had his back to Jean, and he was bent over, one hand on the TV stand supporting him. Jean couldn't help but fall silent, and stare.

  
Marco's back muscles nearly _rippled_ through his t-shirt. And his ass--

  
_I don't know about you, but I'd like to watch you strip._

  
"Jean?"

  
Jean blinked and looked at Marco's face, which was looking under his arm at him. "Y-Yeah?"

  
Marco tilted his head. "Are you okay?"

  
_Innocent._

  
"Yeah, I'm fine."

  
"Did you hear what I said?"

  
"No."

  
"You were busy staring at my ass, weren't you?"

  
"What are you talking about?"

  
Marco raised an eyebrow, and turned around to face Jean. "You know what I'm talking about."

  
"Eh-"

  
_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

  
"Food's ready."

  
As Marco walked away Jean let out a breath he'd been holding.

  
_Damn, that was close..._

  
Jean walked over to the cabinet and poked around, looking for a movie to watch. He sat down on the floor in front of it. He would tilt his head to the side to better read the titles. When his eyes finally skimmed across a movie he wanted to watch. He pulled it out from its spot and stood up.

  
He turned around to see Marco sitting on the love-seat behind him, curled up with a plate of pizza in hand. Marco smiled while chewing, before swallowing and said, "You looked like a little kid."

  
Jean grinned. "You're the one to talk."

  
Marco only rolled his eyes and set his plate on the coffee table aside of the love-seat and pat his hand on the spot beside him. "Put the movie in and get over here already."

  
Jean did as he was told; he put the movie in, and sauntered over to sit beside Marco. A little close, but Jean's mental excuse for that was because Marco had pat there, and not anywhere else.

  
Jean nearly snuggled into Marco's side when he stopped himself and shook his head.

  
_Jean, you have to be the stupidest person on this planet, I swear._

  
"Aren't you going to eat?" Marco looked down at him, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  
_Yeah, you._

  
"Yeah, in a bit."

  
Marco frowned. "It'll get cold."

  
"I can warm it up again."

  
Marco stared at Jean for a second, then shrugged, turning his brown gaze to the TV. He pulled his feet on the couch, and tucked them under him. Meanwhile, Jean sat uncomfortably _straight._

  
Occasionally, Marco's elbow would brush Jean's arm, and Jean would tense up. He had to stop himself from kissing Marco right then and there, and curling up in Marco's side, several times.

  
He was snapped out of his thoughts when Marco nudged his arm and looked down at him. "Why don't you get comfortable? You don't have to sit like that."

  
"And how exactly would you like me to sit?" Jean remarked, noting the little room on the small love-seat.

  
Jean could have swore he heard Marco mumble something under his breath, but was shaken when Marco swung his legs over Jean's lap, and wrapped an arm around him, pulling Jean into his side. "Huh. That's better."

  
Jean's mouth fell open. He did _not_ expect that. But he surely wasn't complaining. He was dying to do this with Marco since the first time he laid eyes on him. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to do something a little more?

  
After a few minutes passed, Jean made himself comfortable. He laid his head on Marco's chest, and his arm was draped over Marco's legs. His shoulder was nudged onto Marco's torso, and Jean shuddered slightly. Marco hooked the arm that pulled Jean in around the latter's chest. While his other arm rested on the arm of the couch.

  
Marco buried his face in Jean's hair, and Jean felt him smile into the soft ash colored hair.

  
"Say," Jean started, shuffling slightly. "I don't think I've seen you at the cafe before."

  
"I'm new," Marco answered.

  
"Huh. I knew I didn't recognize you. I was wondering why you swept me off my feet."

  
Marco chuckled. "Okay, Mr. Flirtatious. I get it."

  
"Get what?"

  
Marco twisted Jean's head around with his index finger to face him. "I saw the way you looked at me when you first laid eyes on me. And I can't say that I didn't look at you that way a few times, too."

  
Jean's breath hitched in his throat when Marco placed a peck on the corner of his mouth.

  
Just as Marco started to turn his attention back to the movie, Jean lifted himself on top of Marco. "You're not getting away with just a _peck._ "

  
"What are you going to do about it?" Marco smirked.

  
"You'll see," Jean returned the smirk. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Marco's.

  
Marco's lips were soft and gentle, and Jean had a slight hint of something sweet on his lips. He pulled back and looked at Marco with question. "What is that?"

  
"What's what?"

  
"What did you eat?"

  
"... Pizza?"

  
"No, that's not it," Jean shook his head. "It tastes sweet."

  
Marco smiled. "Oh. I like sugar in my coffee and I like to drink it with chocolate."

  
Jean scrunched his nose. "When did you make coffee?"

  
"When I grabbed my pizza?"

  
Jean cocked an eyebrow and leaned back down, grinning. "You're a weird one."

  
Marco only chuckled and wrapped his arms around Jean's neck, pulling him into another sweet kiss. Jean laid himself flat against Marco, and snaked his arms around his waist, hugging him impossibly closer.

  
Marco pulled away for a breath after several moments of being wrapped in a kiss. Jean smiled and leaned down to Marco's face again, and peppered his face in kisses, kissing every little freckle on his face.

  
Marco giggled, and his adorable little flush came onto his face again, and spread to his ears, and down his neck.

  
Jean loved that flush.

  
Jean nuzzled his face into the crook of Marco's neck, leaving a trail of butterflies up to his jawline, to his face, then nipped at his ears.

  
"J-Jean! Stop! That-That tickles-"

  
Jean did as he was told, and squirmed against Marco slightly before getting comfortable and snuggling into him. Marco wrapped his arms around Jean, hugging him tightly, not daring to let go. Marco buried his face in Jean's hair again, sighing in content.

  
"I'm gonna stay the night."

  
Marco mumbled in response. "M'kay."

  
After a few moments, Jean's eyes grew heavy. His head rested peacefully on Marco's chest, listening to the endless rhythm of his heart beating, and the steady sound of Marco's breathing. The constant sound lulled him into a calming bliss. This was Jean's new favorite sound.

  
Jean started to doze off, but was pulled back into reality for a short while when a gentle voice cut through the air.

  
"Hey, Jean?"

  
Jean hummed in response, cracking open one eye to meet the sparkling brown ones.

  
Marco smiled shyly. "... I think I love you."

  
Jean closed his eye and mumbled, "I think I love you too."

  
_This is going to be the best sleep I've had, yet._

**Author's Note:**

> So, not really how I wanted it to go, and a bit longer than I expected, but I guess it'll have to do.  
> This was a my bad, but I didn't quite make it clear that Connie, Sasha, and Reiner were the ones standing outside the cafe door. Connie was the one that shouted- you can figure out the rest...  
> Also, I'm pretty bad with cars so forgive me if I made a mistake.
> 
> You're more than welcome to criticize.  
> Also, do tell if my keyboard screwed up.  
> Thank you for reading! c:


End file.
